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Okay, I know – I’ve had a blender for a while. That’s what you’re thinking. Because obviously you’ve read every single one of my posts and you know that one time, in the year of The Jackie Blog postaday 2011 super festival, Jackie posted about wanting a blender. And you’re right; I got one. I called it The Blender of Shame and when I brought it home, I was disappointed that for 20 American dollars, you cannot buy a blender that will uniformly chip and blend ice.

The Blender of Shame post was March 9, 2011; over a year ago. My blender hasn’t done anything since. For a year, I’ve thought about things I could do with a good blender: frappaccinos, alcoholic milkshakes, smoothies and protein shakes of all kinds. And I wept.

But yesterday I found myself at Target. But yesterday, I went to Target for a blender. And while in the blender aisle (there’s an entire AISLE OF THEM), I stared at varying price levels with a multitude of claims. And because I was upset that I had been duped into a terrible blender a year prior, I bought the most ridiculous one there even though it was a terrible financial decision. I told myself that it would pay for itself in avoided Starbucks trips and in the number of times I will repeatedly buy crappy blenders until one day I give up and just buy expensive ones anyway.

It’s called the Ninja. It claims to turn ice into powder, which, at first seems just a bit intense. But I was mad, so I liked it. I set it up the very moment I got it home.

Actually, once I took it out of the box, I ran into my living room and tried to get my black cat to go in it so I could take a picture of her being a ninja in a Ninja box.

I lead a very exciting life.

I say all this to say: this blender is amazing. It scares the bejeezus out of me. Right before I touch the speed button, I get this little rush to my chest because I kind of feel like the blades will somehow whip themselves through the blender lid, into the sky, and directly toward my face. That, and I’m excited about a good smoothie.

I’ve already made three smoothie concoctions in only two days. I think Dave is afraid that I’m going to make dinner and throw it into a blender out of enthusiasm. And he’d probably try it too.

He’s a good man.

Anyway, I’m telling you about my blender today because I actually want to be telling you that I experienced a fantastical Lollipop Tuesday by going to the Furry Convention held in Pittsburgh this past week. But I can’t tell you that because it didn’t dawn on me until they were packing up that I should have dressed like a kitten and run down to the convention center to do some insider reporting.

Furries, by the way, are folks who are so into animals that they dress like them. Sometimes they even act like them. Some go so far as to copulate when in costume or to never even take off the costume at all. Here’s a picture for full effect:

I remember a friend of mine who worked in a hotel downtown reminiscing about the troubles of furries in the hotel. One furry in particular, deemed it prudent to use the hotel floor as a litter box and did not, in fact, clean up after himself.

itself.

the furry’s self.

Not all of them do that. I like to think of those folks as furry extremists. They can also be people who just like a certain character so much that they associate themselves with it or like to dress up as it. I love it when the Furry Convention is in town because it’s nice to run into a random raccoon in my favorite restaurant or see a family of small rodents downtown. Life should always be fun like that. I also like it because it significantly increases my chances of getting to explain to my boss what a furry is when she asks.

She did. It was excellent.

But aside from all that, I am genuinely disappointed in myself. I can’t imagine the absolute wave of inspiration that would wash over me the moment I step foot into that convention center. It would have been glorious. But I’m an idiot and by the time it occurred to me, they were packing away their tails and ears.

Unless they were hardcore. Then they just walked home or became strays I guess.

Anyway, it would have been easy and wonderful and instead it wasn’t and so instead I wrote about my blender. And I vowed that next year I would have to continue the blog because by golly I’m not going to rest until I cover a furry convention.

I think if I saw anything even resembling a Furry convention – say I saw AH Furry – I would immediately be completely creeped out and have to find another direction in which to orient myself. Because that’s not okay. I mean it’s okay if you’re being ironic like a furry hipster, but if you’re into it? No.

This furry convention thing is deeply disturbing. I was going to accuse you of making it up, but people are weird so I don’t doubt such a thing exists. I’m so glad you had the sense to stay away. Make yourself a milk and liver smoothie instead.

I met furries when I used to fly around Second Life. Some were among the nicest creatures there. Jackie do make visiting Second Life one of you Lollypop Tuesday adventures if you have never been there. I lost my password and hence my avatar, but also realized I was addicted and needed to focus on real life for a while. So although I have friends on the web who remind me of the good times, I am waiting a few more years before givingin.

Katherine, do you really think with all the times I’ve emphasized my inability to contain my MMO Gaming addiction that I should be moseying around a place like Second Life? That sounds like a one-way ticket back to a bucket of cheetohs and singledom. Stay strong – we can life real lives and be real people!